


Reverberate

by Anonymous



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:25:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yami Yuugi encounters the Pantomimer, and they play a Dark Game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverberate

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Yugioh DM Rare Pair Challenge](http://ygodmrarepair.dreamwidth.org/).
> 
> Not explicit

 

 

That night, the soul room echoed with a steady clink clink clink; the ordinarily silent chambers filled with the sound of metal against stone, and let the spirit that meditated in the centre of the labyrinth know that he was not alone in this place. _Yuugi_ , the spirit called out cautiously, but was met with no reply.

He stood up and followed the sound to its source, and arrived at one of the rooms that could be reached from the entrance hallway-- one of the first that any intruder would come across. A long time ago, he had set a tripwire that would cause the ceiling to cave in when triggered. The trap had been removed, and in its place, the entire room was wired through with piano strings.

He stepped into the room, and immediately the strings wrapped around his wrists and ankles and prevented him from moving. As the wire tightened over his skin, and a trickle of blood ran from where the thin metal cut deep, a shape appeared from the shadowed side of the room. Its gait was unstable, its movements jerky, and as it moved further into the light, the spirit recognised the pierced and skin-stretched face of the mime whom he had defeated that day. Or—thought he had defeated, but by releasing it from Marik’s influence by the power of the Millennium Puzzle, had unwittingly allowed it passage into his own mind instead.

That door on the opposite side of that corridor, that was always left ajar—the spirit called on every power he knew to will it closed. _Yuugi, I’m so sorry. Yuugi._ No matter what happened here, that boy must be safe.

Through the thicket of wires, the spirit saw that beside the mime was a raised platform, on which sat a translucent paper screen. Behind the screen, beside the mime, there were two shadowy figures, and on the far side a third, whose small hands held an outstretched knife.

The mime held up four fingers, and the wires that held the spirit were released.

_Is this a game?_

Of course it was. The thicket of wires before him gleamed. The spirit studied the obstacle course before him, and charted several possible paths to the front of the room. There would be many narrow encounters and tight spots along the way, but it was doable. The Dark Games always were.

The spirit selected a point of entry, stepped forward, and began to move through the wires. A normal human being would not be capable of such twists and contortions, but Yuugi’s small stature helped, and it would also not have been impossible for something like that mime. The spirit pressed on toward the front of the room, and tried not to be distracted by the mime’s waving hands.

He was entirely focused on wrangling with a narrow gap when he felt something catch against his hair. He stepped quickly back, but it was too late: the wire strung just above his head quivered gently from the contact. Across the room, the mime put down one finger, and on stage, the knife-wielding figure moved several steps forward.

Twice more the spirit did not shift his weight quite right, and twice more he looked on in dismay as the wires quivered with a soft sound, the mime put down a finger, and the knife-wielding figure moved forward again. If the spirit touched the wires again, the murderous puppet would reach the other side of the platform. It would run the other two through with the knife, and he would lose the game. But the path ahead was so densely strung with wires, there was no way that even Yuugi’s small body would be able to fit through the gaps between the strings.

The spirit thought about how, when he touched the wires, the mime would put down a finger, and the knife-holding figure would begin to move. And then he smiled as he thought, _I know how to win._

He stood up straight, and ignored the sudden pull of strings against his back and across his legs. He pushed aside the wires that were still strung in his way, and walked forward normally. When his coat snagged, the strings came loose from the wall as he pulled it forcibly free.

The mime’s eyes gleamed, and the knife-wielding figure started to move forward again. But before the murderous puppet could complete its journey, the spirit had already reached the stage. He had already stretched out his arm, and torn away the paper screen.

Without the screen on which to cast a shadow, the figures disappeared. The game was over. But now that the spirit was closer, he could see that puppet-strings were threaded through the mime’s knees and shoulders and hands.

 “So that’s how it is,” the spirit said. Then he bent over the mime’s form to undo the knots, one by one.

The knots had been pulled tight from years of puppetry, and the spirit had to use his teeth to wear down the rope, but the mime did not react at all, even when the spirit pulled hard enough to tear flesh. One by one, the mime’s freed limbs fell limp at his side, as if he did not know what to do now that he was no longer being commandeered. As the spirit’s lips met the ruined skin over the mime’s throat, he was almost surprised to find a pulse beneath the taste of metal and old blood. The mime shuddered beneath the closeness of touch, and although the spirit did not know it, it was the first reaction anyone has been able to elicit from him for a long, long time.

Within the room full of piano wires, the spirit undid the last knot, and stepped back.

There was a crime, a long time ago, and all these years he had been paying the price. It is beyond the Dark Games to judge him now—

 

 

“—but I hope that you will find—“

 

 

The eyes that for so long had been empty could finally fill with tears, the lips that for so long had been sewn shut could finally smile. All around the mime, the piano wires snapped inward to surround their maker, and the scarred and punctured face disappeared beneath the coiling mass of strings.

The spirit crossed the room to leave, without looking back, and shut the door. Behind him, the power of the Dark Games swept in, and buried it all beneath the dry grit of desert sand.

 

 

 


End file.
